Of Bridges and the Rest
by four-eyed 0-0
Summary: He'd probably always been a coward, but he crossed the bridge anyway without looking back, walked out on the immediate matter to carry with him till the next mile. And so he went along, moving forward without dealing with the ugly truth. For how long he could still keep up, he wasn't sure, and being enlisted for manual labor in a measly grocer's wasn't helping matters. Or was it?
1. Preserves

Disclaimer: All fandom-based and real-life entities mentioned in this piece do not belong to me, with the exception of original characters. Yu Yu Hakusho will never be mine and the same goes for the quote at the beginning.

Rated T for themes, language and violence.

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><p><strong>Of Bridges and the Rest<strong>

**Part I**

by four-eyed 0-0

_"Whatever may happen to you was prepared for you from all eternity; and the implication of causes was from eternity spinning the thread of your being," _(Marcus Aurelius_,_ _Meditations_)

Chapter 1: Preserves

The streets in this part of town were almost empty, and Kurama kept his eyes out for any shift in the shadows the streetlamps cast when they hit an object—a tree, a cat, a fence. His rapid pulse rang in his ears, and his breath—shallow, noiseless—rose up in small clouds against the brittle autumn breeze, before dissipating against the material of the fence he was currently curled up against in an attempt to blend in with the dark side of the street the light didn't touch.

A burst of power within his head and a rustle in the trees fifty feet away—_Hiei!_—and he, Yusuke and Kuwabara sprung out of their posts, hot on the fire demon's heels as they thundered after the black-dressed culprits. Their pursuit rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight but not staying undetected as the team as one heard the faint sound of wood sliding on wood.

They were now facing a grocer's, the metal gate already pulled halfway through. Hiei deftly bent into the small space to slide the wooden doors leading inside and they followed before Kurama could sense and hear a third presence.

There was blinding light, and Kurama had to blink a couple of times before registering the gravity of the situation.

Standing with them in the room lined with shelves and baskets and trays of goods were the two demons and a young woman. Safe with the counter barring her from the very unwelcome guests, she held a baseball bat, eyes wide and knees shaking. With the existence of demons known to humans these days, he was a little chafed at her choice of weaponry.

Kurama's eyes flitted to her head and found the switch on the wall. One screw was amiss, so that the cover was swinging, propped by the other that she probably had managed to drive into place before the whole pack of them invited themselves in. _Figures._

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she said aloud, blinking too rapidly to appear threatening.

The redhead heard the collective "tsk" of his friends. "Kuwabara, the lady," he said before the room burst into chaos, and baskets were upturned and goods tumbled out, stepped on, as the three of them attacked the culprits who refused to surrender.

Kurama was taking out his whip when a huge metal rack shot up in the air, hitting a shelf of noodles as it missed its target, which prompted another leap from the redhead before the shelf could collapse on top of him. It crashed against another shelf, another, and another… granting no more room for the demons to play hide-and-seek.

"_Not our store!"_

The woman's protest rang out among the uproar and Kurama rolled to dodge, flicking his wrist to bring his whip curling around a basket that came toward him before flinging it to the other side of the room, against one of the culprits Yusuke had distracted with a fist to the jaw. The target spiraled backwards, knocking the door from its frame. He, the basket and the door hit the metal gate in a three-note thud, denting it for good measure.

There was a slash, a clatter, and the sound of glass breaking, as the other demon fell against a shelf on a wall, sending a sweet smell to tickle Kurama's nostrils. Hiei sheathed his katana and stepped away from the thick puddle of fruit preserves and shards the demon lay unconscious on.

A charged silence as they all took a moment to catch their breaths, before a new voice cried out, "What in heaven's name is happening?"

All of them turned to find a balding man and an older woman dressed in their night clothes standing by a now opened door a foot from the counter, eyes bloodshot and sporting bed hair. The wife was leaning on her husband, a hand to her chest. Great, now they had to deal with three unwanted witnesses.

"Ow!"

Kuwabara's hand connected with his stomach as the younger lady bolted and leapt the counter for her—Kurama was doubtless about it—parents, brandishing her baseball bat before them like a sword.

"Mom, Dad, I think you need to call the police," she said. Not taking her eyes off them and maintaining firm hold of the bat in her right hand, she fumbled with her jeans pocket using her free hand. After a few seconds of silence punctured by the daughter's grunting, she fished out her keitai and handed it to her father. "Get back up there. I'll keep them out."

Yusuke stepped up before the old couple could heed their daughter's advice, and the family visibly trembled, but stood their ground. "There's no need for that, nee-san. We're the police."

"Quit arsing about, mister," she said defiantly. "Those are demons, all right. And you're no police."

The detective heaved a deep sigh before taking out the leather-bound ID from his jacket. "We're sorry for the damage, but we're here on duty. We're the Reikai Tantei."

"Excuse me?" she said, staring openly at the gold-plated badge bearing the characters for their group's title that Yusuke was holding.

Decided that the whole situation was gravitating towards the usual protocol, Kurama slid his hands into his pockets, surveying the disarray. Only three baskets of oranges managed to stay upright, while most had been trampled on, the contents on the floor—whole or otherwise. The sole shelf of preserves now held no glass jar, askew from the impact of the demon's body. Rice spilled from a single sack, while packets of meat and dried fish were knocked out of their stand. Koenma would have a field day.

"All right, Botan, where are you?"

A pop and the bat almost slipped out of the daughter's grasp, followed by the sound of plastic on wood as the keitai fell to the floor and the father was found struggling to keep his now unconscious wife from falling. The daughter blinked once and turned from her worrying father to the blue-haired deity clad in a pink kimono and wielding an oar. Then back to her father. Then to Botan again. Inari, was she clearly baffled.

Botan covered her open mouth with her hands. "Oh my goodness, I didn't mean to—"

The daughter shrugged off her worrying. "I'm asking you again. Who the hell are you?" demanded the daughter, shaking the bat at them again.

Yusuke was growing impatient, ignoring the girl overall. "She'll be all right, Botan. Do get on with it," he said.

"Oh, yes," murmured Botan who took out the customary leather-cased ID from her kimono with a flourish. "Itano-sama, we're the Reikai Tantei, at your service."

But the young Itano refused to be assuaged. She crossed her arms. "It would be a big help if you could quit this joke. What do you mean you're the _Reikai Tantei_?"

Botan smiled and gestured to the room at large. "We're the special team that Koenma-sama, the King of Reikai, has designated to maintain peace and order here at Ningenkai to keep humans out of harmful demon's way."

A heavily silence hung in the air as the daughter considered the situation. Her bat dramatically descended until it hung limp from her hold and she narrowed her eyes. "Very well, then. This Koenma-sama, could I speak to him?"

Botan and Yusuke exchanged glances. The latter nodded and Botan fished out her compact communicator from the sleeve of her kimono. There was a beep as she pushed a button, the sound of static before a voice was carried through the rather silent room, "Botan! What is it?"

"Koenma-sama, er, a witness wishes to speak to you," spoke Botan to the small screen.

"A witness?" Koenma repeated, incredulous.

"Well, Yusuke and the others caught the culprits but there were some humans who witnessed the whole thing."

Koenma sighed, "Well then, go ahead."

Botan nodded and took a tentative step toward the family huddled in the small space they refused to abandon.

"Stop right there," the daughter said, startling Botan a bit. "Throw the thing and I'll catch."

"Eh?"

Yusuke started to protest and Hiei grunted in annoyance but the girl was adamant.

"Just do it."

"Hitomi, don't touch that."

"Dad, trust me; I know what I'm doing," she said, not even sparing her father a glance. "Throw, Botan-san."

The grim reaper did as she was told and Itano Hitomi caught the communicator in one hand without even so much as flinching. She cast them a threatening look, as if crushing the compact between the floor and her foot would make them turn hind and tail, before she laid her gaze on the small monitor, her father looking over her shoulder.

Her eyes widened before narrowing once more. She whipped her eyes to them again. "Are all of you mad? This babe isn't a king!"

Yusuke and Kuwabara chortled half-heartedly and Kurama smiled at the floor despite himself.

"Why, you little—!" came the scandalized response of Koenma, causing Hitomi to look back at him. "I only assume this form to conserve my energy, but if you need further proof, I can humor you," he said, as if reciting from a schoolbook. Poor Koenma must be tired from every stranger making a fuss over his child form.

Hitomi raised an eyebrow, disbelief etched on her face.

Koenma audibly sighed. There was a small poof and Hitomi had to drop the baseball bat to hold the communicator with both trembling hands. Behind her, his father almost dropped his wife.

"Holy cricket!"

"This evidence enough?" asked Koenma.

Hitomi blinked. Not once, not twice, but three times. "I guess…" she said absently, her eyes glazed over, big and ghostly in the pale light coming from the communicator's monitor.

"Very well, what is it that you wished to talk to me about?"

The girl straightened up and glanced back at them. "These people claim you're their employer. Are they telling the truth… Koenma-sama?"

"Yes, that's true."

Still unconvinced, she said, "Could you please show me their profiles?"

Yusuke almost protested but Kurama was quick to put a hand on his shoulder. "Surely Koenma's prepared for this."

"Oh, all right." A rustle echoed from the communicator, as if Koenma was searching for something. "Ah, there it is," he murmured before a zip was heard.

"There's Urameshi Yusuke," said Koenma, and Hitomi nodded. Another zip, "Kuwabara Kazuma, Jaganshi Hiei, and Minamino Shuichi."

Kurama bit back a sigh. So Koenma had indeed prepared false profiles beforehand to cover for him and Hiei. Smooth.

"And the lady who's got an oar?"

"She's Botan, the tantei's assistant."

"Does this mean it was on your bidding that they took out two demons in the dead of the night?"

"Yes, that would be correct."

She looked at them again—no, she took in the room at large. "Very well. Koenma-sama, in light of what has transpired tonight, I would like to ask compensation for the damage caused by their mission to our shop."

"A compensation? You need not worry; we'll pay for the damage."

"I'm sorry, but as it is, I would like to arrange for the mode of payment, sir."

A strange tingling on Kurama's fingertips told him this was going nowhere they wanted. His companions must be feeling the same way, for they all grunted.

"Hitomi, that's unnecessary," her father chided, the haste in his voice evident.

Hitomi whirled around to placate her father with a hand to his shoulder. "Dad, will you at least trust me in this, please?"

Mr. Itano stared at her daughter's pleading eyes before he bowed his head in consent. Well, that was rather fast.

A pause on Koenma's end. "Let's hear what you have to say, Itano-san."

"I do not wish for you to compensate for the damages, Koenma-sama. I wish for the four of them to pay us back by working in our shop once it's restored to order," she stated sternly.

A chorus of disagreement resounded in the room and Hitomi held out a hand to silence Kurama's companions as well as her father as Koenma was saying, "I'm sure we can agree to some other arrangement, Itano-san. We're short-handed, as it is," pointed out Koenma patiently. "That aside, these gentlemen have their own preoccupations aside from coming at my beck and call: they have lives outside of being detectives."

"You are bound to deduct the payment from their salary, aren't you? If they're to work for us, you wouldn't have to pay and they would have their salary whole."

"Itano-san," said Yusuke. "We're not exactly concerned with the money. We just need to get through with this."

In fact, they weren't concerned with money when there was no salary to begin with. Kurama inwardly sighed, reminded of how ungratified he felt for all his efforts. But that was just the fox in him.

"We've been the indirect victims of this mission, Urameshi-san. It is an inconvenience that we will not be earning a single penny at least a week, and with all due respect, wouldn't it be fair that we be appeased by settling this matter on our terms? I could arrange a schedule for each of you so that this extra workload wouldn't hinder your other 'preoccupations'."

Kurama dimly noted how she spat out the last word like it were a terrible lie and excuse. He couldn't blame her. Detecting wasn't something you do part-time, and catching rogue demons wasn't an atypical job as any, even with humans now knowing of their existence and the danger some of them pose.

He heard Koenma sigh. Deeply. "Very well then, all right, I agree."

_Crap_.

Hitomi smiled and nodded at the communicator. "Thank you, sir. I just need one more thing," she said, her tone deliberate.

"What is it?"

"Can I have a copy of their profiles? I would need to at least have a way of contacting them. And also a copy of their work schedules."

"I'll have Botan send them to you as soon as possible. Is there anything—"

"But Hiei doesn't have a phone," Kuwabara pointed out, for the first time standing up from his crouch behind the counter. Hitomi must have hit him square with her bat, since he still held a hand over his stomach.

Hiei growled. Hitomi turned an accusing glare towards them, then to Koenma.

"You can contact him through Minamino-san," said Koenma.

The daughter inclined her head. "Okay, then. Thank you very much, Koenma-sama."

"You're welcome. I'm sorry for the inconvenience this has caused you."

Hitomi closed the communicator and skipped over the rubble on the floor to hand it back to Botan. "You'll be starting now, gentlemen."

"What?" said Yusuke. _Exactly._

"Three hundred yen apiece for every hour spent clearing up this mess," she said, enthused. "Brooms, dustpans, soap, mop, what-have-you in the storage, door to my right. Botan-san, would you please be a dear and call the authorized people to pick the demons up?"

They all stared at her, dumbfounded. Even he couldn't believe the nerve of the girl.

"Well? If you start now, you would have your debt paid faster, wouldn't you?"

"Baka onna," hissed Hiei. "I'm out of here."

And then he disappeared in a black blur, stepping on the still unconscious demon by the door.

"Hiei!" Yusuke yelled in exasperation.

"That little shrimp," said Kuwabara.

Kurama released a breath. The fire demon could be such a prick when he wanted to.

Hitomi merely raised her eyebrows. Already, the redhead wasn't taking a liking to her. "Oops, just nine hundred an hour, then?"

He gritted his teeth, too perturbed and tired to even think of a mental comeback. Instead he mustered enough resolve to show a neutral face before addressing the girl for the first time, "The door to your right, Itano-san?"

She turned to him. "Yes, Minamino-san."

"Excuse me," he said, turning to the rest. _Get a move on, guys._

Even as they were engulfed by the dank and smelly storage room, he heard Hitomi say, "Dad, trust me in this, everything will be fine. Just get back up there and put Mom to bed. I'll take care of the rest."

"But Hitomi, I can't afford to—"

The sound of a hand on a shoulder. "We'll talk about this in the morning, Dad. Please, just tuck yourselves in bed. We've all had a long day."

Kurama couldn't help but agree with her on the last bit.

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><p>Hello again! I know, I'm an ass for abandoning "The Science of the Inexplicable" and taking it down entirely, but I realized something as I finished writing the twelfth chapter. That I couldn't write any more of it, that I wasn't writing something I should be writing about. This story is headed to a whole different direction, and I know where I'm taking it, at least where and how it's bound to end. And with writing this new story I hope to finally address the real, serious issues. I may not be making any sense right now, but I hope you could stick with me from here on.<p>

A review, please? Thank you very much! =)


	2. Load

Disclaimer: All fandom-based and real-life entities mentioned in this piece do not belong to me, with the exception of original characters.

Rated T for themes, language and violence.

* * *

><p><strong>Of Bridges and the Rest<strong>

by four-eyed 0-0

Chapter 2: Load

Kurama had located the cleaning materials and handed gloves to the two best friends cursing in hushed voices the situation they were in.

"I'm telling ya, buddy, this has got to be the most outrageous task I've had in a long time."

"Same with me, dude. Hell, I never agreed to hold a broom unless Keiko beat me to a pulp with it. That little witch, how dare she order us around?"

Kurama closed his eyes and sighed. As much as he wanted to just blow the pollen to prevent this from happening… "I understand your sentiments, but isn't Koenma the one who consented to this after all? In a way, he probably wanted us to learn a lesson."

"_Right_, Dr. Watson."

Kurama rolled his eyes. Yusuke would always pull that one out every chance he could get. Truth was Kurama didn't believe his own words at all. Koenma must have wanted to teach them to not fool about while they were at missions. The little brat could be evil when he felt like it.

"Excuse me, but have you any trouble finding the tools?"

For someone disagreeable, Hitomi spoke rather politely—when she wasn't in shock and pointing a bat at them, that is. The three of them turned to her and Kurama was quick to assuage Yusuke's acid retaliation by connecting the head of the mop he was holding with his foot. Not too gently, it was a warning. He was tired and groggy and all he wanted was a nice shower and at least four hours of sleep before returning to work in the morning.

"No, Itano-san, we've found them," he answered, smiling politely.

Hitomi inclined her head. "I see. How about you start with the cleaning already? Botan-san said the 'Force' was it, would come in a few to collect the demons."

How she said 'demons' as though the word never bothered her in a thousand lifetimes struck Kurama as odd, in a good way. If humans like her would be this receptive to the changes in all of the Three Realms, then perhaps it wouldn't be impossible for humans and demons to coexist after all.

But that was coming from the Kurama who was being idealistic. No, actually, it was just Shuichi. For all it's worth, he wouldn't see the end of the conflict thinking such. It was akin to trying to undo a meter of tangled string—futile, rash and counterproductive. You might as well cut it before more string gets wasted. All he could do now was to protect those he cared for as long as they needed protecting.

Even if choosing that path meant having to put up with disagreeable fellows hither and thither. This was the life he elected for himself after all. And it wasn't like he hadn't already hoarded himself a collection of vengeful enemies to last him more than a hundred Shuichi-lifetimes.

"Itano-san," said Botan as soon as Kurama was out the storage room. Next to her were three familiar faces in similarly familiar uniforms, all positioned at the ready with their hands behind their backs, knees apart. Kurama would always find it funny how awkward the formality of the SDF members was when standing next to Yusuke.

"Here are some of the members of the SDF."

"That was quick," were the first words out of Hitomi's mouth. Perhaps the shock of the night had already come and gone that being flustered over the arrival of more strangers wasn't even possible at this point. She managed to bow, though, before saying tonelessly, "Please be on your way."

Hitomi padded behind the counter, seating herself on the stool. Before she could put her pen to use, however, she interrupted them as an afterthought.

Her eyes glinted in sudden apprehension at her realizing that after all, there were living, breathing humans not a ten-foot radius away from their location. "The neighbors, would they know about this?"

"They wouldn't," said the sole female SDF member Kurama's memory failed him to recall the name of.

Hitomi visibly relaxed as she let out a breath. "I wouldn't want to know the specifics as to how that could be but thank you."

When it was clear that she wouldn't say anything else, the three tantei exchanged a few words with the SDF members before they went with the still passed out demons and Botan flew off—("What? Botan, no fair, give us a hand, wouldja?" Yusuke had yelled, for which he was shushed by Hitomi)—, leaving behind a file containing the profiles Hitomi had requested.

And so he and his friends set out to putting the shop into some order, while Hitomi burned the midnight oil with the account books, calculating just how much her family lost in one night that the tantei would have to pay. Working.

Yusuke had already filled three garbage bags of the spoiled goods, doing more dumping—_dunking_—than actual filling, somehow finding a way of amusing himself with the task. He'd been shooting the goods as though they were basketballs, pumping his fist when he scored and groaning when he missed. Once, he'd tried throwing a can of sardines over his shoulder, almost hitting Kuwabara on the head as the latter was tying up the first bag Yusuke was able to load to set to a corner where it would stay out of the way. It was a miracle the carrot-top boy didn't notice as he moved so the can safely landed inside the bag, but Kurama was anyways at the ready in case a scuffle broke out.

Kuwabara, on the other hand, had been whistling and humming to himself how Yukina and his aneki would appreciate an added skill of his in stacking and rearranging, eventually breaking to a love song sung too low for even the redhead to make out the lyrics.

_Whatever makes them happy, Kurama. Whatever makes them happy. And busy._

Content with mopping the floor in the distant buzz of the thermostat and rapid clicking of calculator keys, Kurama chanced a glance toward the counter where Hitomi was frowning, her hair that was supposed to be in a bun messed up and sticking to her clammy neck, head bowed to the figures she was inspecting. Either she couldn't fathom the humongous amount of cash this mission—and her decision—had let fly out the window or she couldn't come up with a scheme to fit into their already tight schedules.

Or maybe she was desperately trying to block out the noise the two friends were making, too fed up to even scold them when she already had a first time? People had their limits, and being forced to do more accounting at midnight after a long day of work and dealing with uninvited strangers rattled her as much as being forced to mop and sweep such mess after a long day of business meetings and demon-chasing rattled Kurama to the point of wanting to break something.

But he was a calm individual, a totally calm individual who was rational and just… tired. She seemed rather collected even for someone who was nearing a breaking point. And that in itself is admirable and something Kurama was proud to have himself.

And then Yusuke flung a can of diced pineapple chunks absently. It landed inside the trash bag all right—Yusuke had a lot of practice already—, but soared with a trail of syrup that gushed out of a hole in the can, momentarily hovering in the air. There was a quiet splatter, which left more sticky liquid for Kurama to mop away from the floor and brush from his sneakers when he got home.

He wasn't able to help it. He growled low, and Yusuke bristled.

Two hours later—two hours _too_ late to get a decent shower and catch some decent sleep—, Kurama was relieved of his janitorial duties as the three of them had finished collecting all debris and saving what else could be saved from the disarray that was no longer much, with all the disposables neatly pushed back against a wall, and the still usable shelves stacked neatly with surviving goods. He allowed himself a deep breath and be the receiving end of a hearty pat on the shoulder by Yusuke and Kuwabara, animated as ever.

"Finished?" said Hitomi, rubbing the corner of her eye with a pinkie, glancing at the clock hanging by the wall behind her. "Three hours of labor by three people, that makes for a total of twenty-seven hundred. Congratulations."

The last bit didn't sound as it was meant to, for Hitomi turned to them with glassy eyes before turning away with a muffled, "'Scuse me," yawning for a good five seconds with a hand over her mouth.

"Tired, aren't you?" said Kuwabara.

"Bushed," agreed Hitomi, shaking her head in an attempt to stay awake. "Anyway, I'll just have to discuss—"

"What, really, now?" said Yusuke. Internally, Kurama groaned. Just, really.

That woke Hitomi up, the creaking of metal on concrete filling the room as she pushed up herself from her seat to appear bigger and more intimidating. "Yes, now. This'll be quick, I assure you, if you cooperate. I just need to speak to you regarding your schedules."

"What about them, Itano-san?" Kurama quickly answered before Yusuke could open his mouth.

"Before that, I have to ask, will Jaganshi-san be with you?"

"Yeah, I'd whack him if he wouldn't," said Kuwabara.

_Yeah, right_, thought Kurama, which Yusuke voiced out laughing.

"Shuddup," Kuwabara snapped.

"Well?" Hitomi demanded through bared teeth, miffed.

"We'll take care of it," Kurama said hastily.

"Yay." Hitomi turned to take one of two clusters of white papers. "As I had calculated, you would be working here for two hundred and fifty hours each under an hourly rate of three hundred yen—minimum wage—to pay for approximately three hundred thousand yen worth of damage to Itano Grocer's."

"Two hundred _fucking_ hours?" Yusuke sputtered. The redhead found it a waste of energy to stop the detective; he was too worked up about the figures to do anything but stay quiet.

Hitomi merely blinked at him with her huge, tired eyes. "And fifty, but sorry, my mistake. You three, for your efforts, have now only an outstanding balance of two hundred and forty-seven hours."

"Two hundred and forty-seven hours?" said Kuwabara.

It was in his companions' best interest that they quit parroting her.

"Yes, which is almost equivalent to one month, if we were to follow the minimum of eight working hours," she deadpanned, taking pieces of papers and handing one to each of them.

Kurama stared at the small piece of paper on his hand with his human name written at one corner in neat kanji, his schedule taking up most of the center space. Before he could even read it, Hitomi began prattling once more…

"But as I'd seen from your schedules, Urameshi-san works nights, which means he could spend the midday to afternoon here at the shop, while Kuwabara-san works till four in the afternoon on weekdays and Saturdays, and is thus free on Sundays and after work at the office. Same is the case with Minamino-san and Jaganshi-san. If we were to play on these, then Urameshi-san would be able to pay off his load in thirty-five days, working seven hours a day and eight on Sundays, while the rest of you, forty-seven days, working five hours on regular workdays and eight hours, too, on Sundays."

…sparing him the struggle of having to read the writings on the paper.

"Of course, you are allowed to work under the prescribed hours, especially Urameshi-san. I'll keep track of everything anyway."

They didn't say anything.

"You'll start next week, Monday. Job description? Register, storage, stacking, delivery. Depends on the store's needs."

"Whoop-de-doo," said Kuwabara weakly.

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><p>Hiya! So here is chapter two! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the first one and I'm hoping you've enjoyed this one (and would leave a review).<p>

See you!


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